Coming Home
by SunnyWallflower
Summary: After seven years, Reagan and Lee Lucas return to their hometown of Sweet Amoris, clueless in expectations. While Lee sees an opportunity in a new start, Reagan has a harder time accepting her new life, never quite fitting in anywhere. However, as she spends more time in Sweet Amoris, Reagan finds herself learning the meaning of home and of love in ways she never expected.
1. Episode 1, Part 1: It's School, Not War

She said gently as if she didn't want to be offensive, "Morning, hope I haven't woken you up too early."

"I would've had to get up soon anyway…" Reagan Lucas rubbed the sleep from her eyes, pressing her phone closely to her ear. "What do you want?"

"To talk."

There was nothing to talk about Reagan decided. Impatience tinged her tired tone, "Mom, I have to get ready for school. I don't have time for this. Anything you wanted to say should've been said before you dumped Lee and me with Aunt Aggie."

Softly, her mother sighed a tiny huff of resignation. "Okay, I'm waiting for my flight to Chicago and the first day of the conference will be done by eight 'o clock. You can call me then."

_But I don't want to_, Reagan omitted. "Okay, I'm hanging up now."

"Honey, no matter what happens between your dad and I, just know we both love you."

Without a word, Reagan pressed End Call and swung her short legs over the edge of her bed. Her tiny feet shuffled along the floor as she entered the bathroom. Reagan stretched and massaged the kinks out of her back as she allowed the steam of hot water cloak her body. After washing her hair, Reagan thought of her predicament as she worked her loofah over her chest, dreading the idea of assimilation in a foreign environment. Technically, Reagan was born in the small town of Sweet Amoris, having lived there for eight years before her family uprooted themselves and settled in Merion, a few towns away. Eight years might as well have been one because Reagan recognized nothing of her hometown. Turning the knob to a colder temperature, she leaned against the warm tiles of her minuscule shower cubicle. Water glided over her body as Reagan grasped for a memory of Sweet Amoris, bathing in the now cool water. Nothing sparked her mind except for three faces, she knew them as "Cassie," "Amber," and "Nat." Cassie was her first crush, a sweet boy who made sandcastles with her in the sandbox and Amber was a close friend with whom Reagan played house. Then, there was Nat, a mean brat who pulled on Reagan's pigtails and kicked her sandcastles into oblivion; feisty, Reagan refused to let him victimize her and fought back, at one point she had scratched him up so bad that she had left a tiny scar on the bridge of his nose, imperceptibly small but present. She had always been curious as to how they turned out but barely remembered them; those faces belonged more to ideas than to actual persons. Turning off the shower, Reagan stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel, diminishing further thoughts of those faces.

A pea-sized dollop of lotion and a swipe of mascara sufficed for Reagan's delicate features. Observing herself, Reagan knew if she put effort into her appearance, her looks would've been better for it and veiled admonitions from her facetious ex-boyfriends about makeup came to mind. Requisite to her morning routine, Reagan wiggled into her clothes in a hopping dance. She felt the velvet smooth fur of her cat, Clinton, rub against her leg and mewled in his tiny voice. Grinning, Reagan kissed the spot between his ears as he purred and she replaced his water. Sprinkling a couple treats atop his filled bowl, Reagan scratched behind Clint's ears and bid her farewell as the chubby kitten snacked. Entering the main room, Reagan hooked her backpack on the corner of her chair, alerting her brother of her presence.

Lee was a willow to Reagan's stump, although, he had her wide eyes and strong nose and sardonic humor. Being a year older, Reagan was often jealous of her brother's towering build, solely inherited from their mother, and frequently thought of as the younger sibling to her chagrin.

His voice was muffled with a warm veggie Hot Pocket, offering her one, "Hot Pocket?"

Accepting it, Reagan consumed the pastry voraciously and reached for another. The Lucases were a strictly vegetarian family with the exception of Scott, the eldest child, who bulked up on protein to make an effective presence on the football field.

Casually, Lee said, "I see you're rocking the hobo chic look."

"It's called grunge."

"And that's better?"

She couldn't help but snort as she admitted, "Hardly, I just figured if it had a name it'd be more legitimate than 'hobo chic.' Besides, you're one to talk, Mr. Hipster."

"If that's the best you got, I'd hate to imagine what didn't make the cut." Changing the subject, Lee said, "Aunt Aggie's already at work."

Their aunt, Agatha, worked for a pre-school, often donning a fairy princess outfit that looked more adult than child-friendly to rouse more excitement from the already giddy children. Her job required that she leave for work early, giving the brother and sister time alone in the morning. When Agatha's sister, their mother, dropped them off for the last few weeks of summer and then for the upcoming school year, Agatha accepted them graciously, happily enthusing that her want for children. Lee and Reagan haven't seen their aunt for seven years and knew nothing of her or her personal life but they felt grateful that she hadn't turned them away unlike their own parents who had gone MIA since the separation; although, Aunt Agatha's enthusiasm perturbed the cynical siblings who had never encountered genuine zeal, which discomfited them. Even with the awkward tension, Agatha and the siblings got along well enough, she was warm and welcoming, they were grateful.

"So, what's new?"

"She left a note saying that she'll be late tonight, it's her friend's birthday. She gave us a twenty for takeout."

"As long as it's not leftover Pot Stew from Pot Stew Saturday I'll live."

Lee gagged involuntarily at the very image of the brown gruel their aunt had whipped up every weekend. Kindly, the siblings accepted each serving, pondering on the possibility of their aunt being a former prison chef in private. At one point, Reagan swore that the stew had life of its own, having seen a chunk of carrot move by itself in the thick gravy. What Agatha had in warmth she lacked in cooking, which was not a particularly terrible tradeoff but terrible for the siblings' tummies.

Finishing off her glass of water, Reagan wiped her lips and slipped her arms through her backpack straps. "C'mon, if we don't get going we'll be late for first period."

"Aw, you say that like that's a bad thing."

With a nervy edge, Reagan said, mildly threatening, "If you make me ruin my perfect attendance streak, something bad _will_ happen."

Once the two were out of the apartment complex, Reagan unlocked her ancient bicycle with its graying mint handles and seat, swinging her leg over the seat and straddling it. Kicking up the stand, she turned to Lee who had just put away his lock, her feet resting on the pedals.

Calling over to him, Reagan asked, "Race me?"

Ever since they were children, Lee and Reagan raced to school on their bikes with the loser buying the winner soda or ice cream; their older brother, Scott, was seven years older, never being as present in Lee and Reagan's lives as they were to each other. Presently, Scott was finishing his training in a military academy in Virginia and vaguely aware of their parents' separation.

"If you want to eat my dust."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, punk." Without a warning, Reagan bolted off in a flash. She could hear Lee cursing at her as the wind brushed her hair off her face. A lovely rush pumped her blood as she raced down the empty road, her cheeks flush with adrenaline.

Sweet Amoris was a largely undeveloped community, foliage blooming freely—almost wildly—and Reagan, no stranger to nature, managed to find at least thirty different species of flora foreign to her during her summer hikes. The air had a bright, crisp quality that heightened Reagan's senses, everything smelled, tasted, felt, and sounded with clarity. The developments were grounded in the center of the land with just the basics, large farmhouses dotted around them; there were the schools—the primaries, secondary—dollar store, bank, diner, jewelry, and clothing shop. All were built with the same gray mortar and bricks, the only difference were the variances in color of the buildings, some robin's egg blue others creamsicle orange. The town was so sparse there wasn't even a city hall building; instead, it was conjoined with the bank in a frustrating labyrinth. Reagan found it to be a miracle that a town with only a mere nine-hundred people could survive for more than a century without excessive aid from the government, a fact Reagan's mother emphasized in pride. Unashamedly, Reagan's mother loved her hometown, although she rarely spoke of it, and made it known it was Reagan's father that disliked it, resenting him for uprooting the family. It was the place her mother and her mother's family, the Reynolds, were raised and stayed for generations; her mother was one of the three family members to leave town while the rest farmed or became teachers. The Reynolds were a beloved family in Sweet Amoris and it was obvious—the first week Lee and Reagan arrived, the neighbors showered them with gifts and filled their nights with homemade meals. Reagan knew it wasn't the home she felt comfortable in, but it could be and that quiet optimism was something she never let go.

The smell of burnt rubber laced the pavement as Reagan's bike screeched to a stop. There was another screech as Lee's stopped so abruptly that he was thrown onto the gravely ground with an oomph.

Off her bike, Reagan walked towards her brother and laughed as she helped him up. "What's it up to now? Twenty to ten?"

Lee corrected her, "Twenty to nine, braggart."

"Using fancy words aren't going to lessen the burn, you know." Reagan locked her bike to the bike rack by the stone stairwell leading to the entrance. Reagan felt a small nagging doubt. An air of nervousness thickened her voice as she said, "Lee, we'll be okay."

Dismissively, Lee said, without looking up, "Yeah, I know, genius. It's school not war."

She couldn't argue with that truth.

* * *

**Hi! I hope you enjoyed the first part of the chapter. Since the actual file came up as eighteen pages on Word, I cut the first part so that the chapter wasn't one big chunk of text. This story will be focused on Reagan, a Candy, although I will be including Lee more often than not; for Lee, I thought I'd make him the male version of a Candy with the possibility of romancing a girl because the girls (except Rosalya) need some love too. There'll be friendships and occasional romances but there is no ship for Reagan set in concrete at the moment since romance will be a priority second to friendship. I'll try to post every two weeks but I can't make any promises since these chapters take so long to write and edit. Thanks for reading. :D****  
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	2. Episode 1, Part 2: The Goose Chase

The first thing that Reagan noticed about the principal's office was the plethora of Corgi memorabilia littered around her and Lee; Corgi figurines scattered over cabinets, Corgi posters espousing inspirational quotes, Corgi mugs filled with Corgi pencils. Lee mouthed, "Bark bark," and Reagan snickered so loudly that she had to cover it up with hacking coughs.

With a benign smile, Principal Shermansky (there were less fortunate names but at the moment, Reagan couldn't recall any) said, "Welcome to Sweet Amoris, Reagan and Lee. From your grades and achievements, it's obvious that you'll fit quite snugly here. There are just a couple things you'll have to fulfill before the two of you can finally enroll. Knowing that your Leslie's children, I'm confident you'll be done in a snap."

Without thinking, Reagan asked in a polite voice reserved for figures of authority, "May I ask what they are?"

Wagging her finger, the rotund principal smiled condescendingly. "If you gave me the opportunity, I would be very pleased to do so. First period is always study hall because the middle school children come in later, so I figured that the two of you will finish up in that time and then we can get you settled in. We even have a guide for you but she's running a few errands of mine at the moment. In addition, there's a new student in your grade, Reagan, so you'll have company. Now, there are three things for each of you: a fee of twenty-five dollars for enrollment, a completed enrollment form, and a photo id, which will be another ten dollars. Quite simple and relatively painless if you work efficiently. The enrollment form is in the student council room across the hall with Nathaniel, the student council president. In addition, a photo id can be purchased in the dollar store, just ask for Louis in the front. Any further questions?"

Lee and Reagan shared a glance of thinly concealed exasperation. As annoying as it was, Reagan knew that it was fairly reasonable although she hated to part with hard-earned cash. Shaking her head, Reagan answered for the both of them, "Nope."

Principal Shermansky didn't even look at them, focusing her gaze to her open agenda. Glibly, the principal shooed them off. "Alright, off with the two of you now. Get going!"

The two left the office, feeling annoyance and frustration as if they bit into brownies made from mud.

"Well, this sucks." declared Lee, his limbs akimbo as he stretched his arms.

"Nothing we can do about it, so suck it up."

"I'd rather not." Lee turned to Reagan, his tone taking on a more cajoling one. "Hey, Reagan, my sweet sister, gorgeous goddess sent from above-"

Fully aware of her brother's wheedling, Reagan sighed. A schemer at heart, Lee was not above begging or appeasing for cash to support his collection of video games, school supplies, and various other objects unlike his older siblings who were as prideful as lions, rarely asking for money unless they earned it; Scott had his first job as a newspaper delivery boy in elementary school and Reagan ran minor errands for the neighbors since she could form the sentence "Do you need help?" There was something inherently satisfying in hard-earned cash.

Opening her wallet, Reagan pulled out thirty-five bucks and grudgingly handed the bills to her eager brother. "You owe me."

"Thanks, sissy." Lee's light lisp made his thanks sound excessively sibilant. If Lee ever repaid her, Reagan would be about three-hundred dollars richer but until then, she'd have to accept her brother's thanks instead.

With a frown, Reagan lamented, "Damn, it's like a ghost town in my wallet. I need a job."

Walking up the student council room, she knocked on the closed door.

"God, this is so boring," whined Lee, who threw up his hands up for more drama. "I'd rather be getting a root canal or mine coal or scoop Clint's litter…"

Without a warning, the door swung open, causing the unsuspecting siblings to jump back. An inch or two closer and Reagan's nose would've been smacked off.

Despite not being hit, Reagan snapped a warning, "Hey, watch where you're swinging that thing! You could knock someone out."

Under his breath, Lee said, ever an opportunist for immaturity, "That's what she said."

"Sorry, force of habit." The owner of the voice was a handsome boy with shiny blonde hair like beaten gold. Reagan's force of habit was correcting her posture in the presence of any attractive boys although she omitted that to the boy. "Are you the new students?"

Smoothly, Reagan said, "We are. And you're Nathaniel?"

"Correct," The boy's lovely golden eyes looked into hers intently and she felt as if they were familiar. "Principal Shermansky told me to prepare the forms for the two of you, give me a moment to get them."

When Nathaniel left, Lee muttered, "Don't tell me you got the hots for our new president."

Flippantly, Reagan scoffed, "Hardly, I just like making eye contact, lets people know you're paying attention."

"Bullshit, you look like you were giving him the googly eyes. That and the fact that you're sticking your boobs out like you're a street walker on a corner."

Irritated, Reagan puffed her chest out further. "Screw you, I'll make eye contact with whomever I want and I'll stick out my boobs when I feel like. It's my damn right as a woman so chew on that."

When Lee snickered, Reagan knew that it wasn't because her declaration was silly but because the subject of their talk was right behind her. _Oh for God's sake. _Turning around, Reagan blushed in embarrassment. Nathaniel didn't look into her eyes again as he muttered bashfully, "Um, here are your forms, feel free to use the room to fill it out. I'll be… um…completing a few errands."

Rushing past the two, Nathaniel looked like he couldn't have ran any faster and Reagan didn't have the delusion to believe it wasn't her fault. Entering the room, she plopped down on a plastic chair and let out another sigh.

"I've never scared off a guy with the mention of my boobs before, that's a first."

Filling out his form, Lee commented glibly, "You know, that's the most conceited thing I've ever heard you say and you're a pretty well versed in the art of humble brag."

Having begun her form, Reagan replied, "I'm flipping you the bird mentally, I hope you know that."

"Back at you." A focused silence filled the room as the two went to work, not particularly unusual for them. Then, Lee announced triumphantly, "Done!"

Filling out the last box, Reagan said mockingly, "If I had a cookie, I'd give it to you."

"Jealous?"

"Twenty to ten, I'm still winning," retorted Reagan, her voice teeming with sarcasm. Putting away her form in her backpack, she hopped up to her feet. "C'mon, we got to get our ids now."

Lee trailed after her as they left the room. "Boo, that's not fun."

"I doubt Principal Shermansky made up this scavenger hunt for fun, for bureaucracy maybe."

The worn soles of their sneakers squeaked along the freshly waxed tile floor, the only sounds in the hollow halls. Purple metal lockers glistened their reflections, obviously polished to perfection. A part of Reagan questioned the amount of attention meticulously worked into the school and another part of her appreciated it.

Despite being a schemer, Lee frequently relied on his older, cunning sister to do the actual planning. In a way, many of Lee's schemes were mooching off others' genius. "So, we're going to wing it?"

"Unless you want to go back to Shermansky, looks like it. We can ask a teacher or—"

Cutting in, Lee pointed out, through a window, a red-haired boy loitering in the courtyard. "How about that guy?"

Shrugging, Reagan admitted, "Couldn't hurt to try." Exiting the school, Reagan and Lee walked down the steps, towards the unsuspecting boy. Calling out to him, Reagan said, "Hey, excuse me!"

Tobacco smoke wafted in the siblings' direction as the boy appraised them in a steady glare. Deciding they were worth some attention, the boy said, drawing out his words lazily, "You're excused."

Before Reagan could ask him for anything, Lee stepped in front of her. "Yo, do you listen to Winged Skull?"

For a moment, the boy's eyes lit up with surprise, his slouched back straightening. Quickly, as if to maintain his cool, he returned to his languid posture and said, "I'm surprised you know who they are."

Internally, Reagan cringed at the mention of Winged Skull. Winged Skull was the bane of Reagan's life due to Lee's constant blasting of the band's repertoire of rebellious, anarchy propaganda. The moment their parents announced their separation Lee slunk into his room, shut off the lights, and played the alt-rock band's songs with the fervor of a cultist. For an entire summer, Reagan had to listen to the angsty wails and angry cries of Winged Skull as they pulsated against her bedroom wall. The one time Reagan went to protest Aunt Agatha advised her to leave him be and let his emotions take their time venting, so Reagan did but that didn't mean she had to like Winged Skull.

Pulling the flap of his plaid flannel shirt, Lee revealed his shirt underneath, which happened to be identical to the one underneath the boy's leather jacket. "I was supposed to go see them in this club around last May but they canceled at the last minute."

Raising an eyebrow, the red-haired boy smirked, "No kidding, in that grimy club in Evergreen, right?"

"The very one." With a wide grin, Lee said, "I'm Lee Lucas, smartass extraordinaire and self-proclaimed groupie of Winged Skull. This is Reagan, my sister, part-time hobo," Lee gestured to Reagan's oversized denim jacket and baggie plaid shirt, "and full-time teacher's pet."

There was a genuine smile in the boy's smirk. Offering a cigarette to Lee, he said, "I'm Castiel, rebel without a cause."

"Holy shit." whispered Reagan a decibel too loud as she experienced a minor epiphany.

The boys had been so involved with each other that they had hardly noticed Reagan on the outside until her little outburst.

Castiel gave Reagan an onceover, stopping for an instant too long at her breasts, before saying in a mocking tone, echoing her greeting to him, "Excuse me?"

It was tempting to be irate with the way he spoke to her but she contained her composure. "I used to go to school with you, 'Cassie.' We were in first and second grade together. Now that I think about it, you still look the same, although, the dye job seems new."

"Cassie" was a nickname the boys in Ms. Neidermeyer's class used to tease Castiel because of a girl, also in that class, named Cassandra who demanded to be called "Cassie" and Castiel was the only boy not to give in to the rumors of cooties to socialize with the girls, which obviously meant that he was a girl. At the time, Castiel didn't seem to mind, ignoring the immature boys, and spent most of his time painting with the girls. Eventually, the nickname lost its sting due to Castiel's neutral reaction and it ceased to be once the class moved on to the second grade. From the flushed cheeks on Castiel's face, Reagan could tell she struck a nerve in the standoffish boy, a mildly pleasant surprise.

Then, with the recognition of someone particularly unlikable, Castiel said in a groan, "God, you're that Reagan...here to stalk me again?"

"Hey, if I recall correctly, you were the one who kissed me on the swings."

"To get you and your little buddies to stop stalking me, creep."

"It's a pretty weird way to get someone to stop stalking you, in my opinion. Also, are you seriously calling a seven-year-old a creep?"

"I'm calling you, when you were seven years old, a creep. Don't tell me that that Valentine's Day massacre of my cubby was harmless, it took Ms. Neidermeyer ten days to get that horrible glittery pink goo, what-the-hell-ever it was, out of there."

Internally, Reagan let out a noise of frustration but swallowed her pride. It was that and the niggling notion that he may have had a point.

"Look, we transferred back and need to get to the dollar store for our ids, any clue on how we can do that or are we just going to debate the creepiness of seven years old me?"

Castiel's green eyes glittered with the mischievousness of a twelve years old troll on the internet. "And if I don't feel like doing either?"

Rolling her eyes, Reagan took a hold of her brother's arm and turned back. "We'll get our answers elsewhere. We certainly don't need to be around unhelpful people like you." Then, after a second, Reagan glared at Castiel. "By the way, you were so much cuter without that stupid smirk."

It took five steps before Castiel said anything. "Fine."

Despite having insulted Castiel for the very thing she was going to do, Reagan smirked to herself; it was a tactic she used on a particularly immature ex, who was definitely carved from the same stone as Castiel. Turning back, Reagan sauntered back with Lee slinking behind. "So, you're going to help us?"

A twitch of irritation tweaked underneath his angular eyes. Castiel grouched back, "If you keep interrupting me, I'll shut right back up."

_Please do, you nuisance, so my brain cells can continue living_, thought Reagan. Instead of spitting back a quip, Reagan put her hands on her wide hips as if to urge him impatiently.

Surprisingly, Castiel said curtly, without the edge of an insult, "Three blocks on your right, just go straight once you turn."

"Thanks, Cassie." As she heard that nickname slip from her lips, Reagan regretted it as Castiel returned to his cranky demeanor.

Castiel spat out furiously, "Do the world a favor and go to hell."

Lee murmured his genuine thanks as Reagan stormed off. Positively ruffled, Reagan retorted back in her mind, completely aghast that a boy as nice as young Castiel could become so nasty, _As long as you're not there, I'll be peachy._

* * *

Fortunately, Castiel hadn't been lying and the siblings could check off the last item on their list with a sigh of relief. The middle-aged man, Louis, was kind and he was readily helpful, happy to help any descendants of the Reynolds. The only time Louis had a change of mood was when Castiel was mentioned—Louis became a bit ornery and grumbled something underneath his breath. Looking at her id, Reagan grimaced at the sight of her picture. She'd never been particularly photogenic, her mother and Scott had fortunate gift of above-average attractiveness but their genes never transferred to her. If Reagan knew how goofy the picture would turn out, she would've actually made an effort to look silly.

Interrupting the silence, Lee commented, "I'm glad Castiel didn't hate you enough to give us fake directions."

Defensively, Reagan said, "I don't try to be so hateable."

"Really? You could've fooled me, with all your little taunts and comebacks."

"A few edgy comments do not an insult make."

There was amusement in Lee's laugh. "You're so freaking defensive. Typical Type A."

"Shut up, you don't even know what that means." Then, Reagan pouted at her brother's supposed betrayal. "Besides, you have to admit that I wasn't the only dick."

"You have a small point, Queen of Dickery." Lee decided to change the subject. "So, Sweet Amoris seems cool, eh?"

"I guess. It's no Merion but I'm biased. The only drawback is how barren it is, like a ghost town." As the two walked back to school, the sidewalks were the only obstruction of nature on the pathway—towering evergreen trees and cedars casted over them and surrounded them. "I mean there's only one boutique in the town, which is inconvenient unless you like looking like a generic teen pop star."

"The fact that you, a known dumpster diver, is judgmental of a trendy clothing shop is as hilarious as a hobo being critical of McDonald's." It should be known that Lee's favorite comparison of Reagan is to a hobo. "I actually like it better than Merion. No assholes giving me a daily toilet hurricane or playing target with my nuts, if that's not paradise I don't know what could be. And, without sounding like a fan girl, Castiel seems cool," Lee ignored Reagan's snort, "He's the first person I've met to know of, let alone _like_, Winged Skull. Do you know how hard it is to come by a fellow Skully?"

"Well, if they're called that, I doubt that they'd want to be found."

As they entered the school, Lee said, "Don't be catty, it doesn't flatter you."

If his words didn't shut up Reagan, the bite in his tone did. It was unusual for Lee to lose his patience, especially with Reagan, and that worried her. Walking into the main office, they met a pretty girl with red hair braided to the side. Before they could walk any further, the girl spoke up.

"Hi, can I help you guys?"

Since Lee was too stunned by the girl's beauty, Reagan answered for the both of them, "Um, we're here to see Principal Shermansky."

The girl's smile was so kind, it must be impossible to hate her. "Oh, you guys must be the new students. I'm Iris. I'm a student too. I just work in the main office for my free period."

"Oh, that must be fun." Reagan cringed at her asinine statement. "We're done with getting everything. We just need her to enroll us. I'm Reagan and the mute," Reagan pointed to Lee, who was staring at his feet shyly, "is my brother, Lee."

"Ha, she sent you guys on the goose chase. That's great that you guys finished so quickly, I'm pretty sure you broke the record." With a sweeping motion, Iris pointed up at a chalkboard with unintelligible scribbles.

"Thanks, I didn't even know there was a record."

"Yep, just a bit of fun to keep the magic alive." Iris gave a light smack to her forehead as she said, "Duh, I forgot to get the principal! Give me a moment and she'll let you in. By the way, there's also a new student but he went to the bathroom or he might be lost or, maybe, both…hmm, I guess I'll check once I'm done with the two of you."

Then, Iris left, practically skipping, and Reagan felt something hit her arm, hard. Whirling around, Reagan met the displeased stare of her brother.

"A mute, really?"

Lee could be so dramatic sometimes.

"Please, she knows it's a joke."

"And if she doesn't and she tries speaking to me with sign language, I'm gonna get back at you. Hard."

"Dude, the deaf use sign language, not mutes. Besides, I doubt you have a chance with her. She looks like a nine and you're like a six-and-half."

Before Lee could snarl at her, Iris returned with a smile as bright and lovely as the morning sun. "She'll see you guys now. Welcome to Sweet Amoris."

Lee piped up, to prove his speaking ability, "We're glad to be here."

Walking into her office, Reagan and Lee were welcomed to the sight of Principal Shermansky and a panting, chubby Corgi. The way Principal Shermansky held and petted the Corgi was reminiscent of a Bond villain.

"Kiki, darling, say hello to Reagan and Lee, they're new students here."

The siblings smiled in nervous hesitation as Kiki's beady, black eyes bared down on them. Like the Mona Lisa's eyes, no matter the angle, Kiki's peepers always seemed to make direct contact as if it were staring back at you. It was one of the most uncomfortable experiences that Reagan had ever been dealt—horror movies were less intense and creepy.

Handing over the items, Reagan said, "We've done everything you asked."

Principal Shermansky made an odd sound, sucking through her teeth, which grated against the ears of those present except for her. Shaking her head, the principal handed back the items to Reagan. "It's unacceptable, I'm afraid."

There was a pitch in Reagan's voice as she asked, "Excuse me?"

"You're missing the paperclips." The principal said dully as if it were painfully obvious, "Children, I told you that I wouldn't accept any documents that were disorganized. It goes against my policy."

_I know where my foot's going "against" if you don't enroll us_, spewed Reagan's mind. Politely, Reagan said, "I must not have heard. I'll go fetch some right now."

"Good, it's nice to see a student take initiative." As Reagan rose from her seat, Principal Shermansky spoke to Lee, "You may stay as your sister retrieves the clips. Kiki likes the company."

Lee looked at his sister with desperation as Reagan smirked subtly. Serves him right for hitting her on the arm and for being a general wretch.

Under her breath, Reagan whispered clear enough for Lee to hear, "Not the 'hottie' you were expecting to score, huh?"

There was a swagger to Reagan's step as she limbered out of the principal's office.

"All done?" Iris tilted her head to the side as she noted Lee's absence. "Where's your brother?"

"Oh, he's in the office with Kiki." A hint of glee tinged Reagan's voice as she imagined Kiki playing around (roughing up) her brother. "Turns out we need paperclips to finish. Can you believe that?"

Understandingly, Iris shook her head in annoyance. "Principal Shermansky should really keep the paperclips out here but she likes to see the newbies scramble. No offense. I've asked her several times but she refuses to let me bring in anything that could potentially harm Kiki."

_That beady-eyed creep is the most potentially harmful thing in this place_, Reagan thought.

"So, any ideas?"

Tapping her chin, Iris said, "You know, I think the student council room's got some. It's right across the hall."

"Thanks, Iris, you're a lifesaver."

The warmth shined in Iris's laugh, bubbling like a baby's giggle. "Saving lives is definitely more fun than organizing cut slips, that's for sure."

Reagan decided that she liked Iris, who seemed to be an angel to Castiel's devil. Since it was right across the hall, Reagan easily found the student council room and knocked on its closed door once more.

Instead of Nathaniel, a brunette answered, a beautiful girl with shiny dark hair and light blue eyes. The brunette and Iris's prettiness led Reagan to question the contents of the water in Sweet Amoris and if it was too late to have its effects work their apparent magic on her.

"Hi, can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'm looking for some paperclips. Do you mind if I take a few?"

"Not at all, there's a box on the cabinet over there. Feel free to take as much as you'd like, all they'd do is collect dust anyway."

"Thank you." After she picked up two clips, Reagan began walking out of the room, thanking the girl again. "So far, everyone's been really helpful."

The girl said with a smile, "I'm glad."

Opening the door while still looking at the girl, Reagan felt her collide into something warm and unlike air. For a moment, Reagan dumbly thought, _Wow, did the air just get thick all of a sudden? _Then, she realized that the thumping against her ear was that of a heartbeat. Looking up, Reagan saw the confused face of Nathaniel and backed off, peeling her body off like an old band-aid.

Reagan felt herself blush as she spoke, "Sorry, force of habit."

Unlike Castiel, Nathaniel didn't smile with a self-satisfied smirk, instead, he said, "No problem, I guess we both need to pay attention more."

Still red in the cheeks, Reagan nodded and bolted into the main office. Even as she approached the principal's office, Reagan felt hot in the face, lacking her normal composure. It wasn't like her to be so clumsy and ditzy. In her defense, she supposed that cute, nice boys didn't really crop up in her vicinity and that their presence put her off guard; Reagan only really knew of catcalls and general crudeness from the many boys that came her way, with the exception of a few friends. Distractedly, Reagan dropped the clips on the principal's desk.

Principal Shermansky clipped up two piles, one for Lee and the other for Reagan, and leafed through the piles as if to make extra sure that everything was perfect. Reagan found Shermansky's perfectionist attitude understandable, since Reagan was particularly notorious for being similar, but enough was enough.

"Perfect!" With a smug smile, the principal turned to her computer and clacked away at her keyboard, producing an irritating song of bureaucracy. Abruptly, an ancient printer behind them sputtered and groaned as it slowly spit up the schedules. The principal shuffled over towards the printer, taking her sweet time as she liked. Once she retrieved the sheets, Principal Shermansky returned to her seat, inserted the sheets to their respective folders, and handed them over to the siblings in a flash that betrayed her slow demeanor.

Clasping her hands together, Principal Shermansky gave them an earnest smile. "Finally! Now, in your folders there will be the combination and location for your locker, a map of the school, a student handbook, and your schedules. Since there are twenty minutes left before school starts, Iris will you a tour around the school and show you to your lockers. In addition, before or after each class, you will hand the schedule over to your teacher for him or her to sign, then, when the day is done, you will return to the office and put it in my mailbox in the front. Understood?"

Wordlessly, the siblings nodded dutifully.

As Kiki fussed in her arms, Principal Shermansky said, "Good, I imagine there'll be a bright future for the two of you in Sweet Amoris and I hope none of you will do anything to contradict my imagination."

The steel in the principal's eyes warned the teens that she was not kidding in the least.

Lee and Reagan couldn't have scurried out of the office any faster than if their lives depended on it. As they approached Iris, they saw an unexpected sight.

"Reagan! Lee!" Kentin "Ken" Tanaka rose from his seat in a burst of energy.

With his petite body to thank for his swiftness, Ken dove straight for Reagan, his bony arms wrapping around her soft, thick back. Uncomfortable with Ken's affection, Reagan wanted to pull away; however, she also hated to hurt his feelings. Instead, Reagan asked in a wheeze, "Ken, not that I mind or anything, but what are you doing here? Does your dad know you're here?"

"I sure hope so since I transferred here! Now, it can be like when we were in Merion!"

Finally, Reagan gently unfurled Ken's embrace and stepped back as Lee stepped in to hug his best friend. Lee said, "God, Ken I missed you. Do you know how boring playing Border Wars by yourself is? I damn near killed myself for entertainment."

A sophomore like Reagan, Ken met her several years before in Pre-Algebra when she turned around to ask for a pencil. Unlike many girls, Reagan didn't appear repulsed or call Ken a nasty name ("Gremlin" was a favorite) but actually carried a conversation with him in a genuine, serious tone, not mocking any awkwardness or anything she didn't know. Since she treated him equally to their peers, Ken worshiped the ground she walked on, which discomfited her to no end, not wanting to take advantage of him and his kindness. In addition, Reagan knew that Ken was in love with her, to a degree, but she couldn't look at him and see him as anything more or less than a brother. Still, Reagan considered Ken her closest friend, never finding much in common, let alone feel comfortable, with her cheerleader friends or her student council buddies or, even occasionally, her boyfriends; the dark part of Reagan refused to let her be relaxed with her friends and only disappeared when she was around Lee or Ken.

Similarly, to his sister, Lee found a brother in Ken and the day they met, when Ken had to finish a project with Reagan for biology, was spent with a kindred closeness; the two boys had so much in common, it was impossible to divert their attention from each other—Reagan ended up finishing the project herself as the boys talked endlessly. In fact, it was Ken who was the first to know of the Lucas siblings' departure, the shirt Ken sobbed on as he was held by Reagan was still damp with tears. Ken was the first person Reagan would come to with news, the first she would tell a personal secret, and the first she would ever call in an emergency; in terms of importance, Ken and Lee were equal in Reagan's book. Ken was the first for nearly all facets of Reagan's life, which made her question whether Ken really needed Reagan or if she needed him.

"Well, don't kill yourself any longer!" Ken tended to exclaim quite frequently, his words laced with infectious pep. "Aren't you guys excited? We're in a new town with a new school, we'll have so much fun!"

Iris giggled at Ken's enthusiasm, still sunny and unadulterated; it could have been misconstrued as mocking yet Iris's face diminished the thought of it. "Come on guys, I'll show you every nook and cranny in this place. With me as your guide, there won't be a thing you don't know about Sweet Amoris High."

* * *

When the school bell rang the day's end, Reagan sighed with relief, forgetting how exhausting a school day can be after an easy summer. It was Honors U. S. History since there were no A.P. classes in Sweet Amoris, a fact that annoyed Reagan slightly. Walking up to her teacher, a nervous man, Reagan dreamt of taking a relaxing bath with the new Lance Harding (a pulpy, hard-boiled ex-cop who chewed on toothpicks and the scum of his city) book and the lightly muted strains of Beethoven, wondering which bath bomb of hers would suit the mood. As the man looked up at her, Reagan settled on her lavender mint bath bomb, she could practically feel her muscles unwinding at the thought.

"Mr. Faraize, I just need you to sign this schedule."

"Oh! Yes, I forgot that you were new to the school." Mr. Faraize took the proffered sheet and scrawled on it, his veiny hand shaking somewhat. Handing the paper back to Reagan, Mr. Faraize said in an apologetic tone that seemed natural to him, "I'm afraid we only have the classroom books here, the rest are in the library. If you want you can get it yourself, otherwise you'll have to wait for tomorrow for me to hand it to you."

Like the teacher's pet she was, Reagan wanted to read ahead for class and she figured that adding a five-minute walk to her day couldn't interfere with her plan. Putting away her schedule, Reagan told her teacher, "No problem, do you mind writing a note so that the librarian knows?"

Shocked, Mr. Faraize stumbled for his sticky notes and pen. Writing in the same frenzied, nervous energy he seemed to live off, Mr. Faraize handed her a messily written note. "Um, here you go. I've never had a student to actually want the book immediately."

Reagan shrugged nonchalantly, not particularly disagreeing or agreeing. She made her way to the library in a cool calm, there was something about schools that gave her a mild comfort.

Another frustration threw itself in Reagan's way when she found out the library door was locked. There was a small window on the door that showed the librarian was still present, almost, unintentionally, taunting Reagan with her ignorance. Hoping to get her attention, Reagan knocked persistently until she heard a voice behind her, a voice that filled her with the crippling feeling of awkwardness.

"Need help?" Nathaniel sported a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, probably because he was more annoyed with Reagan's presence than he let on. It ended up that Nathaniel and Reagan had two classes together, trigonometry and honors English. No matter how quickly or how preemptive he was Nathaniel was constantly ignored in lieu for Reagan, who answered readily many questions the teachers had asked.

He was carrying a stack of packaged papers in what looked to be a bit of a struggled, his forehead beaded with sweat, his glowing hair mussed, and his arms rippling with lean muscle. If Reagan hadn't felt on edge around the boy, she probably would've flirted with him for all she cared.

Like a simpleton, Reagan said blankly, "I need a textbook and the door is locked."

"That's because it's placement testing day for the elementary kids." Setting the load of papers on the floor, Nathaniel dusted himself off and pulled out a key, skirting around a surprised Reagan. Without complaint, the key unlocked the door with a simple turn and click. Opening the door, Nathaniel said, "There, problem solved."

"Thanks, do you need help with that paper mountain of yours?"

For a moment, Reagan thought Nathaniel might snap at her but instead, he grinned. "I do, thanks for asking."

Picking up a few packages, Reagan said casually, "Quid pro quo."

"Quid pro quo…I like that."

"I'd thank you for the compliment but I didn't originate that saying."

"You should at least take some credit for using it appropriately. Nowadays, when everyone's throwing out ridiculous words like 'Yolo' or 'swag,' it's refreshing to hear some of the old language."

It felt weird to laugh aloud but Reagan did, it was staccato and genuine, a rarity in the past few months. She didn't really laugh because he was being funny, Nathaniel didn't really share her humor, it was the situation that amused her; she could be a flirtatious minx, however it was her appropriate use of Latin that impressed the boy.

As they walked down the library, Nathaniel asked, "How do you like Sweet Amoris?"

"It's great," admitted Reagan. "I was actually born here and I moved after third grade."

"Oh." Nathaniel's voice faltered almost imperceptibly as if Reagan's comment was disturbing. "That's nice."

Feeling an urge to explain her embarrassing moment in the morning, Reagan said, "Um, that comment I made when we first met, you know the one you overheard…That was a bad joke. My brother and I have a weird sense of humor."

Kindly, Nathaniel said, not quite convincingly, "I don't believe that I recall it."

"Oh…" Reagan warned herself to play it cool. "It wasn't important anyway."

An awkward silence wedged its way between the two teens as they shuffled through the stacks of packaged paper, pretending to organize them.

Finally, Nathaniel broke the silence delicately. "Don't you have a textbook to get? I'm fine, you really don't have to burden yourself with my work."

"Okay." Reagan said, "Thanks for letting me in, I probably would've gone crazy if you hadn't helped."

"That'd be a shame." Nathaniel's smile was cryptic. "I'll see you tomorrow in English."

Reagan simply nodded and said, "Yep."

_I must be losing my game. God, that was dismal_, Reagan thought to herself as she received her book from the librarian. With a tiny shake of her head, Reagan reminded herself that boys her age were too much trouble anyway, pretty to look at but completely messy to deal with personally—her preference laid with older boys, not cynical enough to be men, not immature enough to be children. Her last serious boyfriend had just begun his first year in college and after him, other boys repulsed Reagan with their fart jokes and sense of entitlement. While Reagan liked babies just fine, she didn't want to date them.

Leaving the cool confines of the library, Reagan found her locker and began the process of unlocking it. It was when her lock clicked open that Reagan realized she was being eclipsed by a massive shadow. Facing the shadow, Reagan was confronted with three girls. Rising from her crouch, Reagan felt unsure of the girls, who stared at her with an odd glint in their eyes as if they were a wolf pack that found a snack.

Confused, Reagan decided to initiate the conversation, "Um, hi?"

It was obvious that the girl in the center with swishy blonde hair was the alpha when the other two stepped back as the alpha stepped forward. The alpha had a lovely face twisted by an ugly smirk with clothes that clung flatteringly to her voluptuous body. The betas were a girl with a severe ponytail and a more severe sneer, and a girl with almond eyes that revealed her disinterest in her leader's antic and a tube of lipstick attached to her open lips, piling pink layer over pink layer.

"You're new here, aren't you?" There was an undeniable smack of derision in the girl's voice that unnerved Reagan.

Reserving her judgment, Reagan offered up a friendly smile. "Yep, I'm Reagan. Do we have class together?"

It surprised Reagan when the alpha turned to her friends and whispered something to her friends, causing them to burst out in a fit of giggles. Mildly annoyed, Reagan rolled her eyes and returned to packing up her bag; Reagan knew how she looked and seemed so if anyone thought she were funny, Reagan wasn't going to fly into a rage of indignation.

"I have to say out of all the transfers, you're certainly the prettiest. Then again, considering the other two, it wasn't really a tough contest. Although," The girl allowed a beat to pass before continuing, "you could afford to lose a couple pounds, especially on your hips."

The girl looked at Reagan with expectation, anticipating something she would be refused. Reagan was rarely confrontational, only engaging in conflict when it posed an actual threat to her or anyone she cared for. Reagan pointedly rolled her eyes as her only act of defiance and said sarcastically, "Okay, thanks for brightening my day. If you ever run out, the dollar store's having a sale on manners."

Amber and her friends exchanged looks of mild amusement at Reagan's lame comeback, snickering openly. Holding out her hand, Amber offered, "You're welcome, bee-tee-dubs, I'm Amber."

"_Bee-tee-dubs," I don't care_, Reagan thought flatly. Pushing her hand out of the way, Reagan walked away, holding her head high. If anything, Reagan had to keep her cool or else risk her pride, something she abhorred. Entering the main office, Reagan was greeted by Iris, who turned out to share several of Reagan's classes to their mutual delight.

Stapling a couple sheets together, Iris said, "Going home?"

"Uh huh, have you seen my brother and Ken?"

"They're outside. They told me to tell you that they'll be waiting by the bike rack. How was your first day?"

Reagan searched for the principal's mailbox and said distractedly, "Ah, pretty good, I'm going to sound weird but I actually like school. I can't wait to join some clubs."

"I'm glad to hear that, there's a music club if you're interested in that sort of thing."

Finding the principal's cubby, Reagan slid her schedule card in. Reagan said, with a laugh, "Too bad I'm more tone deaf than a bat is blind." Reagan paused, a thought running through her mind, "Hey, Iris?"

"Yeah, Reagan?"

"Do you know this girl named Amber? She's blonde and has two friends glued to her hips." No longer bothered by the mean girl's attitude, Reagan was now curious.

There was an unexpected grimace on the seemingly cheerful girl. Iris sighed, palming her forehead. "Unfortunately, yes. She's a freshman along with her other two friends, Charlotte and Li. Are they harassing you?"

"Not really, Amber just said something rude, that's all."

"That's her nature. Ignore them, Amber and her friends are so bored to the point they think annoying other people is fun."

"Seems like a shitty way to spend their time."

"Mm hmm, you tell them that. Honestly, girls like her and her friends should be ignored, it's for the best." Something in the way Iris talked hinted a bitter past.

Adjusting her backpack straps, Reagan smiled at Iris, hoping to end their conversation in a better spirit, "Alright, I guess I have to go now or Lee will strangle me with a bike lock."

Iris returned a smile and said jokingly, "I hope he doesn't, I'd hate to lose a friend so quickly. Tell Lee and Ken I said bye."

"Will do, bye, Iris." With that final statement, Reagan felt her spirit lift. She'd never made a friend so quickly but she was glad she did because Iris seemed wonderful. Walking out, Reagan found Lee and Ken sitting on a step, sharing cookies.

"Ready to go?" asked Reagan, snatching a proffered cookie from Ken.

Lee simply rolled his eyes and got on his bike, a foot tapping against a pedal impatiently. Ken beamed at Reagan and took a seat on his rusted contraption of a bicycle. Finally, Reagan unlocked her bike and sat down on it. Without having to say anything, the three pedaled down the road and away from school like they used to back in Merion as if nothing changed.

* * *

Walking out of her bathroom, Reagan ruffled her short hair with a fluffy towel, her body loose and relaxed from a long bath. Changing into an oversized shirt and shorts, Reagan sat on her bed and opened her laptop, having had little homework from her first day. Bored, Reagan entered her Facebook, noticing a few friend requests in her notification bar. Accepting them, Reagan got up from her bed, her belly growling for food. She entered into the kitchen and assembled a sandwich of white bread, tomatoes, onions, and kale. Reagan decided to ask Lee if he ate already and went to his closed room. As she was about to knock on the door, she heard Lee speaking, the doors were thin as paper and nothing went unheard.

"I know." said Lee sullenly. He paused for a moment and then spoke again. "Yeah." Pause. "I don't know." Pause. "It's okay, I guess." Pause. "Mom," Lee's voice was bare, stripped of its steel, soft like a child's, "I'm fine. It's not like you and dad ever loved each other anyway, so why would you care about the stupid children you didn't want. Why should you, since your life is obviously so miserable outside of work?"

When Reagan heard Lee let out a sob, she slumped against the door, covering her head in her hands. There were times when she felt so powerless, some things needed more than hot chocolate and hugs and at that very moment, Reagan felt lost, trapped in the dark. Since she was a child, Reagan had a strong sense of self-control, rationalizing away her problems, but the sound of Lee's pain twisted her heart, crippling it, Lee was the only person who could ever affect her power. She wanted to run into his room and hug him; however, she knew that he'd reject her out of shame. Lee had been like that ever since Scott told him to stop crying like a little girl—it was the only time Reagan had punched Scott in the face—and Lee's been emotionally guarded, his walls thick with distrust and pride.

With a sniffle, Lee said, "Fine, I'll ask."

The second Reagan heard the shuffle of Lee's feet she leapt up on her feet and ran into her room, trying to appear absorbed in the contents of her laptop. Surprisingly, Reagan's message box blipped, signifying a new message; when Reagan left Merion with the promises of her friends contacting her, she was left with an expected disappointment of them being empty. Opening the message, Reagan saw that it was Iris who popped up with a friendly "Hi!" ending with an Oregon Trail of emoticons after it. It would've been annoying if it was anyone else abusing the emoticon feature but Iris made everything she did seem adorable.

Reagan: Hey, love the emoticon party you've got going.

Iris messaged back but Reagan heard a knock on her door and went for the door instead. As expected, Lee was on the other side, his eyes pink and raw, his cheeks flushed with shame. Holding up the phone, Lee said, "It's mom."

Shaking her head, Reagan said, "No thanks."

Understandingly, Lee nodded his head, his deep green eyes blazing. He muttered something into the phone and left the room. Then, Reagan was welcomed to the return of Winged Skull's music, the chaotic riffs of electric guitar thumped against the wall. After retrieving her sandwich, Reagan wrapped herself in a purple Snuggie, a joke gift from a previous boyfriend.

Iris: There ain't no party like an emoticon party 'cause an emoticon party can go on forever. XD (Insert many more emoticons.)

Iris: Reagan, you there?

Reagan thought for a moment before typing, "Yeah, just had to deal with something."

Iris: Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were busy. :o Do you want to talk later?

The more Reagan thought about her parents and her situation, the more Reagan became irritated. Steeling her resolve, Reagan thought harshly, _Forget them. Forget Dad. Forget Mom. Forget Merion. The sooner you forget all the bullshit, the sooner you forget the pain. You have Ken, Lee, Aunt Agatha, Iris, and, best of all, a new start. It's time to make the best of it._

Reagan: Nah, it wasn't a big deal.

* * *

**So, this was part 2 and even when I separated the two parts, this took seventeen pages to finish. Gosh, I really wish I could edit down more but I can't find to will to stop at nine pages like I used to. Oh well. Do you think moving on will be easy for Reagan and Lee? Did anyone else cringe at Reagan's utter fails with Nathaniel? It was painful just writing it. XD Anyway, I'll try to write the next chapter but I'd expect it after a week or two since these babies take time. Also, most of these chapters will be based on episodes with a minor twist or two and some will not, if you play the game you should know which is which. Hope you enjoyed the story. :) **

**Ps: Sorry for all the emoticons. **


	3. Episode 2: Fight Club

Reagan never expected to see her face on a poster, let alone hundreds of them. The words, "Missing Dog," in bright red letters marked the poster's intent. Even worse, the picture was of her school ID, she looked like she was high as a kite with the stupidest toothy grin and half-closed eyelids from the flash, her short bob made her look even more boyish.

Reagan heard an abrupt snicker from behind her, crackling like a lit firecracker. Lee said, "'Missing Dog!' That's got to be the best thing ever!"

"Stop it, Lee! It's cruel and unwarranted for someone to do this!" proclaimed Ken as he moved to Reagan's side. Nearly in tears, Ken asked, "Do you know who did this?"

Calmly, Reagan placed a hand on Ken's frail, shaking shoulder. "I have a good feeling of who it is. Don't worry, Ken, it's just a dumb prank."

With a sniff, Ken wiped his glasses with a handkerchief and said, "It's them, isn't it?"

"Yup," Reagan faced Ken and gave him a good hard look, "Don't engage them on this. Three little girls aren't going to control your emotions because you're better than they are. You know that, right? Never worry about me. I can my own against those brats. If need be, come to me if they bother you again."

Determinedly, Ken gave a nod, uncertainty still wavering in his green eyes.

Lazily, Lee said as he sauntered up to the two, "God, they're such douche-canoes, aren't they?"

It's been two weeks since the trio started school in Sweet Amoris and throughout those two weeks, Amber and company spent every present moment to harass them. There were the snide remarks behind the trio's backs, rude shoving across the hall, and, the most pettiest of all, stealing of the lunch money. Since Lee was in the same grade as them, sharing most of his classes with them, he got the brunt of most of their torment, having been dubbed "Jolly Green Giant" by his classmates. However, Ken made the easiest target because he was so frail and the least willful, practically broke from being robbed so much. Whereas, Reagan was the most intimidating, she had a certain look in her eyes that was unafraid and almost brutal as if she had nothing to lose, which was the most dangerous quality anyone could have; at certain points, Amber seemed to be slightly frightened when confronting Reagan. In fact, this prank was the first infamous act that Amber and her friends pulled against her, after Reagan called them something particularly nasty after she discovered that Ken had been hit by one of them in an attempt to steal his lunch money. Despite their kindness, many of the adults turned their gaze from the abuse Amber's group dealt when Ken begged them for help, even the adults seemed to be afraid of Amber, a demon spawn of a wretch.

"God," Reagan groaned, noting the abundance of the bright posters, "They're everywhere."

"Well, look who it is, girls, the Jolly Green Giant, the little wuss, and the dog." Amber Hawthorne strutted down the hallway with the arrogance that reflected the megalomaniac that she was. Charlotte and Li trailed behind her hurriedly, failing to catch even footing with their leader's pace. Holding up the poster in one hand, the other hand on her hips, Amber sneered in a pretty voice marred by her vicious nature, "Hello, little doggie, lost?"

Reagan said evenly, staring into Amber's eyes with unblinking black eyes, "Hi, Amber, always a pleasure especially in the morning. I'm guessing this was your work? Looks a bit shoddy to me with its low quality image and unimaginative slogan, plus you missed the opportunity to call me a 'bitch' publicly without the actual consequence of detention from Shermansky. Petty nicknames dissipate with time and patience and if you haven't noticed, I'm very patient, patient enough not to punch you in the throat yet. So, Amber," Plucking the poster from Amber's dainty hold, Reagan ripped it in her face, throwing the bits in her face. "I think it's you, who's 'lost.'"

The smirk on Amber's face faltered at the sight of Reagan's dead glare. Amber glowered at Reagan, pushing her face so close to Reagan's that Reagan could feel her snarl, "I never lose, dog. Also," Amber added sharply, "Stay away from Nathaniel or I'll do much worse!"

With a snap, Amber beckoned her girls to follow her away from the trio. After the girls left, Lee pretended to swoon as Ken clapped Reagan on the back. Despite her hard exterior, Reagan felt shaky and timid, barely aware of her words.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Ken said to Reagan in awe, "Wow, I wish I was as cool as you, Reagan. You sure put her in her place."

Reagan shook her head slightly, saying, "Not really, it was barely a dent in her damn armor of an ego. There'll be another attack eventually, but I'll be fine. I can only hope they don't hurt you guys too."

A part of Reagan meant that, however another part of her was reeling in fury and bewilderment. How had Amber even gotten to her photo ID? She couldn't have snatched it off Reagan because it was safely encased in Reagan's wallet and the only other was a photocopy in her student file, which was stored in a file cabinet in the teacher's lounge. The only people who could reach it were the administrative staff and Nathaniel, but, despite their willful blindness of Amber's bullying, Reagan doubted that the staff would aid the little brat since those files were carefully guarded. Which could only mean that Nathaniel had something to do with this stunt, he'd been the last one to handle her file according to Shermansky, and unless Amber were capable of hypnotism then Nathaniel had to have some hint or idea of the prank; Amber did seem protective of Nathaniel, which added to Reagan's suspicions. It didn't bother Reagan that Amber had seen her file because it was pristine, with top marks and honors, but the idea that Amber could have even got her grubby hands on a school file, something private, rattled Reagan's confidence.

"It's stupid to hope for that," Lee said as he opened his locker. "Amber's a bitch and she's going to keep bitching as long as you exist but she won't go too far 'cause you scare her. However, for Ken and I, what hope can possibly help two cowardly wimps like us, we're like puppy chow? Amber will never stop when it comes to worms like us, she'll come for our jugular because she knows that we can't touch her."

The passivity in Lee's pessimistic words unsettled Ken, who became nervous again. Reagan held Ken's shaking hand firmly in an effort to calm him.

She spoke up, "Hey, what's got into you? I know you're cynical and all but even this is too much for you."

Nonchalantly, Lee shrugged. "Sometimes the truth is cynical."

"What's cynical, Lee?" Iris approached the group, her cheerful aura brightening the mood somewhat. Curiously, Iris's wide eyes looked up into Lee's as she smiled sweetly at him.

"Um…" Lee looked to Reagan for his voice.

Casually, Reagan said, "He was just talking about Castiel. You know how Castiel can get sometimes."

"I do, it's true that he can get a bit too sarcastic. Well, for my taste."

"Thanks, Iris, I'll keep in mind to be as cheerful as a unicorn farting rainbows whenever I see you from now on." In classic Castiel fashion, Castiel glowered as he greeted Lee, his reticent friend, Lysander, hovering behind him. "Yo, Lee, what up?"

"Nothing much, still thinking about your offer. Hey, Lysander."

"Hello, Lee, Reagan, Ken, Iris." As he said each name, Lysander bowed his head slightly in what seemed to be a sign of respect. Unlike his hotheaded friend, Lysander was reserved and mysterious, a complete oddity complete in an outfit belonging in a steam punk Victorian-era theme. Reagan had a few classes with Lysander but he sat in the back with Iris and Castiel while Reagan sat dead center in the front, wanting to pay clear attention, so she knew virtually nothing about the quiet boy.

Then, with a smirk that Reagan dreaded, Castiel pulled out Amber's masterpiece. "Hi, doggie, looking for your master?"

Reagan snapped, "Oh, shut up, Cassie."

"Geez, someone's got a mean case of the rabies."

"It wouldn't be so ha-ha-funny if it was your ugly mug on a bunch of 'missing dog' posters." Angrily, Reagan fanned out her arms at the many students who were now picking up, observing the posters, and staring at her afterward. It was hard for Reagan not to feel like a circus spectacle when a majority of her peers were gawking at her like she was a freak.

Castiel raised an eyebrow, holding up his hands defensively. "Calm down, it's just a joke."

Composing herself, Reagan frowned at the amused boy. Hiking up the strap of her backpack, Reagan turned away, saying, "Whatever, it's obviously not your problem."

As she stormed off, Iris followed after Reagan, linking their arms together.

Gently, Iris said, "Please don't be so mad at him, especially at lunch. Castiel acts like that with everyone, even with people he likes."

Reagan looked at her friend in disbelief. "That boy does not like me. He's made that much clear."

"Of course, if that's what you think." Iris decided to change the subject. "So, any plans for the weekend?"

"Not really. Honestly, I'll probably be locking myself in to study for the history test and chemistry quiz. You know, start the year with some good grades." When they approached Reagan's locker, which was coincidentally beside Iris's, Reagan opened up her locker, Iris following suit.

Casually, Iris commented with disappointment, "Ah, then, you're not coming to the concert tomorrow night?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, Lee didn't tell you? Winged Skull announced on their website that they're holding a small gathering in a club. The club's ten minutes outside of Sweet Amoris and without age restrictions, so Castiel, Lysander, and Lee made plans to go. They asked Ken and me if we wanted to go so we said yes."

"But didn't you say that your parents won't allow you to go out at night?"

"On school nights, other than that my parents are pretty cool with whatever I do. I'm pretty sure if you wanted, you could come too but if you're too busy we understand."

Nothing annoyed Reagan more than being purposefully excluded, especially by her brother, and despite herself, she heard her voice say, "No, I mean I'll have plenty of time to study tonight and the rest of the weekend. I'm sure that I'll be able to have a couple hours for some fun."

"Really? That's great!" Iris gave Reagan a tight hug before dashing off to her first class. "I'll see you later, Reagan, and don't let Amber and her friends get to you."

"I won't." called Reagan in response. Since her study hall was nearby, Reagan found it easily and sat in the front like she always did. Even before her foot crossed the threshold, Reagan could feel the gawking stares of her classmates, wide-eyed and fingers pointed. Now, she knew what it was to be a spectacle and she hated it.

A voice sang Reagan's name in a light, off key melody. "Reagan!"

Turning to her left, Reagan greeted the owner of the voice, "Hey, Rosalya."

Then, Smith Jefferson, a class clown if there ever was one, barked in response.

Rosalya Remington was a lovely girl with stark white, impossibly glossy hair, in addition, Reagan supposed, a friend.

"Shut the hell up, Smith 'Shitty Pants' Jefferson." Turning away from the flustered Smith, Rosalya focused her attention to Reagan. "I'm taking a gander here and assuming that your family didn't put up those posters, huh?"

In response, Reagan groaned and collapsed into her desk as if someone cut the strings controlling her marionette body. While Reagan may have put up a brave face in front of Amber, she dreaded the impending future being known as a "dog." "I hate that girl so much."

"Relax, I think half the school hates her. If you think about it, Amber doesn't go out of her way to be particularly likeable."

"It's easy for you to say when you don't have a bunch of posters littered around the school claiming that you're a missing dog."

"To be frank, it doesn't seem that…_ruff_."

"Very 'punny' of you," Reagan said, mildly annoyed, "I'd hardly say it's the purr-fect way to start the morning."

Rosalya made a face. "'Purr-fect' isn't a dog pun. Girl, you got to work on your pun game."

Shrugging, Reagan admitted, "Sorry, I'm no good at puns. I'm too much of an old dog to learn new tricks."

With a grin, Rosalya said, "That much is obvious."

Interrupting them, another voice casted over the room, announcing, "Reagan Lucas come to the principal's office. Repeat. Reagan Lucas come to the principal's office."

Rosalya and Reagan shared an expression of confusion before Reagan rose from her desk. Jeers were jokingly called after her as she walked out of class, ignoring them in her bubble of confusion. What could Shermansky want with Reagan anyway? She reasoned that it could have only been the posters littered around school. Reagan resolved to tell the truth, wanting Amber and her friends to take full responsibility.

Walking into the principal's office, Reagan remembered clearly of the harden edges in the principal's eyes that warned her to behave. At the very thought, Reagan gulped nervously.

Without looking up from her papers, Principal Shermansky beckoned for Reagan. "Come in, Reagan."

Strangely, Lee was seated as well as Ken, both looking at Reagan in confusion.

Impatiently, Shermansky urged, "Hurry on now, I assure you that you're not in any trouble."

Seating herself in a stiff chair, Reagan asked, "So, you haven't called us to talk about the posters?"

"No, darling, I've already dealt with the culprits at hand and they shall be punished accordingly." The principal said that statement with such finality that it discouraged any further questions. "Now then, on to business. The three of you have been here for two weeks already and I see that none of you have signed up for a club. As a way to keep students active within school, the district requires that every student have an extracurricular." Shermansky passed around a pile of sheets, one for each of them. "This is the list of all the extracurriculars, the times they meet, and the teacher who supervises them. You have until the end of next week to join a club or I'll personally have to choose for you, a personal joy of mine."

When Reagan saw it on the list, she knew she immediately wanted to join the student council. Forgetting herself, Reagan raised her hand.

Annoyed, Shermansky asked, "Yes, Reagan? You are aware that I'm not a teacher and this is not a classroom, correct?"

"Oh," Quickly, Reagan lowered her hand and cleared her throat. "Actually, I was planning on joining the student council for a while now but the list doesn't say who the supervisor is."

"That would be me, actually." Principal Shermansky smiled, her hands clasping together in an iron grip. "Fine choice, Miss Lucas. I suggest that you talk to Nathaniel or Melody to add your email to the group contacts so that you may be up to date. Any further questions?"

The three stared blankly at the principal until she dismissed them with an impatient wave.

As they walked out of the office and into the hall, Ken sidled up to Reagan's side and asked, "Are you really considering the student council?"

"Yeah, I mean that's what I did in Merion and I liked it so why not?" That and she wanted an excuse to talk to Nathaniel, a possibility to figure out his connection to Amber.

"I just thought that you'd like to join the gardening club…"

Frankly, Reagan couldn't think of anything more abysmal than the gardening club. "No thanks, but if you want, you can join me in the student council. There's no rule against having more than one club, right?"

"I suppose so, even though it really isn't my cup of tea."

"You have plenty of time to think about it, so don't sweat it." Reagan turned to Lee. "Have you considered a club yet? Like Douchebags Anonymous or the Asshole Committee."

"I don't know. The music club seems fun and basketball and gardening too. Oh and did I miss the part when you ate a big bowl of bitch-flakes for breakfast this morning?"

"Oh I don't know. Did you drink a two-liter bottle of Douche when you chose not to say anything to me about your little plans for tomorrow night?" Even though they had practically a feet in height difference, Reagan forced her face up to Lee's, both unblinking and furious.

"Guys, don't fight please." Ken pleaded as he wedged himself between them.

"Listen, you hate Winged Skull, that's obvious with your not-so subtle eye rolling and snobby snorts whenever it's mentioned in passing. I didn't want to bother you, your Highness, with an invitation you were going to piss on anyway. Besides, Castiel really didn't want you to come. He tried to make sure that no one would spill this to you, which was obviously futile considering you fully well know."

"What? Is that true?" Reagan looked from Lee to Ken, who averted his gaze in shame.

Ken admitted, completely confounded with the possibility of anyone hating Reagan. "It is. He's pretty obsessed with you in a hateful kind of way."

_Well, screw you too, Cassie_, Reagan thought bitterly. "It still would've been nice to be asked. Whatever…"

"Are we good now?" asked Lee, quite annoyed with the discussion at hand.

"I guess." As they passed the student council room, Reagan stopped. "Listen guys, I'll see you later. I'm just going to tell Nathaniel my contact info because you know the sooner the better."

Pathetically, Ken mewled, "Maybe I'll come too."

For a moment, Reagan paused; she had wanted to capitalize on an opportunity to get to Nathaniel alone. However, she reasoned, there was always an off chance that he wouldn't be alone, considering Melody was attached to his hip, and there would be other chances too, Reagan hoped.

"I don't see why not." Hesitantly, Reagan gestured for him to follow. "See ya later, Lee."

"Yep."

Then, the trio parted ways, Reagan and Ken to the student council room and Lee to his study hall. For once, the door was opened and Reagan knocked on it to signify Ken and her presence.

"Come in." By himself, Nathaniel had his back to the pair, squatting as he searched for something through a file cabinet.

"It's just Ken and me."

Looking over his shoulder, Nathaniel mustered up a smile. "A pleasure to see you guys. How can I help you?"

"The principal told us about having to join a club and we decided to join the student council, if it's not too late."

"No problem, I'll take note of it. If you'd be so kind as to give me your contact information, I can add you to our mailing list." Swiftly, Nathaniel rose up, whipped out a piece of paper and a pen, and strode over to Ken and Reagan without missing a beat.

Taking the sheet and pen, Reagan scribbled down her email address and passed over the materials to Ken, who dropped them unsurprisingly. As Reagan waited for Ken to finish, she observed the student council room, taking in the limited sights. It wouldn't be difficult to break into the room with its bare security, no doubt a sweet piece of cake for Amber with her cunning and wiles. However, Reagan severely doubted that someone as uptight as Nathaniel would just leave the files in an insecure room. In addition, Nathaniel seemed to be linked to the brat through one way or another, which bothered Reagan oddly enough.

"All done," Ken handed over the pen and paper to Nathaniel and said to Reagan, "Shall we go?"

"Yep." She allowed Ken to link his arm with hers as they made their way out of the room, carefully noting the strange expression that flitted on Nathaniel's face.

"I'll see you guys later." Nathaniel called after them.

As the two reached the bisection at the end of the hall, Ken asked, "Do you want me to walk with you to your class?"

"Nah, I don't want to burden you with that. But thanks." said Reagan kindly, unlocking their arms.

"Are you sure?"

Reagan said firmly, "I am."

"Alright." Ken hesitantly pulled away, walking away. Reagan watched him carefully until she was sure that he was out of sight, and then she made a beeline back down the hall.

When she made it to the student council room, she shut the door behind her quietly. Afterward, Reagan said, a bit too loudly, "Nathaniel, we need to talk."

"Reagan, what!" said Nathaniel with a yelp, hopping up on his feet in surprise.

"Sorry, I just have to ask something and I know if I don't say it now, I'll probably never say it ever."

Amusement played on his lips and Nathaniel rubbed his chin, deciding to play along with the odd girl, "Um, okay?"

Nervously, Reagan remembered how much she disliked confrontation and how her thoughts turned to incoherent mush whenever she was faced with it. She knew that she'd just have to come out with it, without a single inhibition. "How is it that a photo of me, specifically from my private file, is plastered around school?"

"Excuse me?"

"Please, don't give me that slack-jawed look. You know very well what I mean."

"You mean those posters?" When he comprehended her words, Nathaniel palmed his forehead in annoyance. "Listen, I have no idea how that happened but don't assume things without evidence."

Indignantly, Reagan exploded, "What am I supposed to assume then? That a teacher willingly helped Amber and her friends steal my photo from my file to help them? According to Shermansky, you were the last one handling my file! What am I supposed to think?"

"I'm not responsible for my sister. However, I would never willingly allow her access to the files without sufficient reason. I'm not dumb."

Exasperated, Reagan asked, "What are you even talking about, your sister?"

"Who do you think? Amber is my sister. I know she's incorrigible and unruly but I would never encourage her behavior or her antics. Besides, Amber never came to me about your file or your picture, so forgive me if I know nothing about her pranks."

Even Reagan, as paranoid as she felt, could see that Nathaniel was telling the truth, his indignation and disbelief so real that it was palpable. Exhausted, Reagan said, "Sorry, I shouldn't have accused you so quickly."

"I understand you're angry and I'm sorry for my sister's malicious behavior. She really should know better but she's wild. I'll talk to her if you'd like."

Reagan didn't need another reason for Amber to hate her so she waved off his offer, "It's fine. I just hate the idea that she could touch something as private as my student file. That's all."

Running his fingers through his glossy woven gold hair, Nathaniel sighed, "She wasn't always like this. She used to be kinder and sweeter…"

"I believe you." Then, Reagan said, "I might as well go then."

"Wait." Pulling out a slip, Nathaniel asked, "I hate to bother you with a favor especially after what happened, but do you mind getting Castiel to sign this cut slip? I know that you two are friends and Castiel doesn't particularly like me, not that I mind. In addition, there aren't many times that I see him throughout the day."

Wary, Reagan hesitated but accepted the task, taking the slip, which felt leaden in her hands. "Sure. Why does he have to sign it though? I thought the parents were responsible with signing it."

"Ah, technically, Castiel is legally responsible for himself, having been emancipated from his parents due to their work, which requires them to travel frequently."

"Oh." Reagan never figured that Castiel would have been alone although he fit the bill of a lone wolf pretty well. She felt a pang of sympathy for him, albeit a fleeting one, for the absence of the parental; though, she was still angry with him for trying to ice her out of the group. She never thought that she'd have anything in common with that boy and it was discomfiting to discover that she did.

* * *

Reagan never thought that she'd find the bready smell of burnt fishsticks comforting but liked that she did. Stacking the fishsticks, she began extracting a log of fish product and delicately stacked it on the very top in a game of edible Jenga.

"Ooh, can I play?" Setting down his tray of pale, grey food, Ken reached over, before Reagan could protest, and knocked over the tiny tower in one accidental sweep. Blushing, Ken said sheepishly, "Sorry, Reagan. Let me fix it."

Gently, Reagan pushed away Ken's eager fingers, feeling low in spirit and utterly done.

"It's fine." Reagan nipped at a fishstick, dusting off the crumbs.

"What's wrong? You can tell me, if you want."

Subtly, Reagan allowed herself to smile; Ken always knew when to push and when to leave alone. "It's just not a good day with the stupid posters. Discussing the significance of the yellow wallpaper in a crazy lady's house doesn't have the same charm when half the class is barking at me."

"To be fair, discussing literary symbols aren't that fun in general," said Lee as he set down his tray besides Ken, Iris and Castiel in tow.

At the sight of Castiel, Reagan's temper flared and she stuffed a few more fishsticks in her mouth to prevent saying anything nasty.

"Are you okay, Reagan?" Delicately, Iris placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.

Through a mouthful of fish, Reagan said distractedly, "Just peachy, why do you ask?"

"Well, you're talking through a mouthful of fishsticks and glaring pointedly at the clock." Iris pointed to the large, possibly ancient clock in the general direction of Castiel, who hadn't paid any attention to either of them.

After chewing and swallowing, Reagan said, "Really, I'm fine." Then, she changed the subject. "I see you chose the mystery meat brick."

Iris made a face. "Well, when you call it that it sounds less appetizing."

"It's a browned block of unknown meat, Iris, hardly tempting on its own."

"I suppose so," Setting her fork down on the tray, Iris announced jokingly, "I'm going back to get a sandwich and I hope when I come back, you don't call it anything for the sake of my appetite."

Amused, Reagan grinned slyly. "I'll try."

"Hey, wait for me, I need a couple napkins." Lee said as he trailed after Iris like a hapless puppy.

Afterward, Ken proclaimed in a rush, before running off, "Ah, I have to go to the bathroom."

It was as if they were all aware of Reagan's task and wanted nothing to do with it.

Casually, Reagan pushed the cut slip to Castiel and said, "Playing hooky? I have a cut slip from Nathaniel for you to sign."

For once, Castiel smirked and responded, "It's much better than having your brain actively become mush, learning about historical bullshit." Pushing back the note, Castiel said defiantly, "But I'm not signing that. You can run back to little Mr. Student Council Pissant and tell him to come to me like a man if he wants shit done."

With a huff, Reagan said, "Look, I know what an uptight guy Nathaniel is and how annoying he can be with his variety of rules, you'd think he was a terms and conditions form. If you just sign it, it'll all be done with, no visit from prissy Nathaniel, who would just whine at you. Now, wouldn't that be nice?"

Not remotely convinced, Castiel shook his head. "No thanks. Although, it's interesting to see you like this, I figured you'd be up his ass because you both seem so uptight."

Reagan snorted. "Please. I'm not Melody."

Then, Castiel laughed, a sound so unnatural and jarring for Reagan who was used to his snark and general snootiness. "That's true. The girl's so thirsty for him, I feel embarrassed for her."

"So, there isn't even a snowball's chance in hell that you'd sign this." Reagan held up the slip.

Abruptly, Castiel became sour. "Not even a snowflake's chance. So, quit it."

"Fine." said Reagan, who didn't feel like pursuing it much anyway.

* * *

"Hey, did you get him to sign it?" Nathaniel asked curiously, as he sat down besides Reagan, Melody taking a seat beside him as if she were his shadow.

Reagan hadn't really known how to address him other than directly saying it, so she said it honestly, "He's not signing it. He's made that much clear." Then, she made a crude imitation of Castiel, hoping to shed light on his stubbornness, "He said, 'If you want to get stuff done, come to me like a man.' Or something to that effect."

Surprisingly, Nathaniel chuckled, "That does sound like him."

"I'm sorry that I couldn't do much for you other than aggravate him."

"It's fine, but do you think you could just try one more time?"

"Uh…" Reagan would rather be Kiki's babysitter than go back to Castiel but she figured one more try couldn't hurt. "Fine."

Once class was dismissed, Reagan headed over towards Castiel, who was preoccupied with Iris and the reasons why death metal will never be mainstream.

"…Because biting off the heads of various animals during a performance will never be sexy for tweens…"

At that moment, Reagan was tempted to leave, however Iris spotted her and waved, leaving her no choice but to come over. Walking over, Reagan said, "Iris, do you mind if I talk to Castiel…alone?"

Nodding, Iris said as she backed away, "Sure, I'll see you in chem."

Castiel leaned against his locker with his arms crossed and his face annoyingly arrogant. "So, what do you want now?"

"He's insisting…" Wearily, Reagan waved the cut slip in Castiel's face.

Pushing it away, Castiel snapped, "Damn, you're persistent! Do you ever take 'no' for an answer?"

"I know what I am, but enough. It's a cut slip not a death sentence. I don't understand why you're so afraid of having a blemish on your record, it's not like you aspire, or even have the possibility, to get anywhere prestigious so what's the point of resisting a consequence of your actions?"

Castiel's tone tasted bitter. "Oh, very astute of you, Lucas. I don't want to sign this stupid piece of paper because I don't want to give that prick any more ammunition to get me expelled from school, if you haven't noticed that's precisely what he wants. Besides, I think I have the right to have that prick at least deign his presence unto me if he wants his stupid piece of paper signed. You can go tell that to Mr. Student Council President. If you come back to me again with that paper, I'll promise I'll make you regret it."

Without so much as a snarl, Castiel stalked off, his body stiff and on edge like a furious cat. Reagan was more frustrated than anything but she supposed that he had a point. If Nathaniel wanted it done, he'll have to do it himself. She sighed to herself, confounded by the amount of drama in her life. It was completely ridiculous that this was her life now; Merion never had this kind of bullshit.

* * *

There were three scenarios she imagined would happen when she told Nathaniel of her failure: the first, he would laugh it off and take care of it himself; second, he would chew her out and take care of it himself; or third, he would chew her out and force her to try again. After Castiel made his point, Reagan decided that he was right, this wasn't her business and she had tried at the least, so it was Nathaniel's turn to face the grump. Predictably, Nathaniel was in the student council room, shuffling around papers per usual.

Knocking on the open door, Reagan sidled in, with a smile that was faker than her interest in organized sports. "Hey, buddy. How's the old grind going?"

"Fine, I suppose." Nathaniel's eyes bore into hers eagerly. "Did he sign it? Assuming, that's what you're here for."

"No, he didn't. I tried but he really would appreciate it if you had the respect to come up to him yourself." Her eyes wavered briefly as she anticipated the onslaught coming her way.

"So, you didn't get him to sign it?" Patronizingly, Nathaniel said this slowly as if Reagan had misunderstood.

Annoyed by his tone, Reagan admitted frankly, "No, but I figure that Castiel has a point. At least have the respect to ask him in person. He doesn't even like me as a friend, so you might as well have gone yourself. However, he's not as horrible as the rumors make him out to be."

A pang of irritation twitched in Reagan as Nathaniel palmed his forehead, presently as irate as she felt. "Then, why did you even bother…"

"I was trying to be nice." Knowing what he was going to ask for next, Reagan said, "No, I won't go back to try again. He's made it clear that if it's me that comes back, it'll be the most lost cause in the history of lost causes."

"Are you kidding me? How hard is it to get one signature?"

"If it's from someone as stubborn and paranoid as Castiel, I'd say it's the hardest thing I've ever done."

"Fine," Nathaniel's tone became sarcastically unforgiving, "I'd hate to burden your gentle soul with such tasks as asking for a signature. I'll do it myself, like I should have earlier."

The nasty tone in his voice infuriated Reagan and she stormed out the room, refusing to dignify his statement. Then, remembering that she had the slip, she crumbled it into a ball, slipped back into the room, glared, and threw the ball of cardstock square into Nathaniel's chest. She never remembered being a hateful person but boy did she hate a majority of the students in Sweet Amoris High.

* * *

Reagan loved school, she honestly did, but now the relief of it ending for the week was quite sweet. She hated to sound so whiny about something as insignificant as school. _Three years, counting this. Technically, two years and nine months and two weeks._ Quietly, Reagan reminded herself that she wasn't a child, she was better than that Amber, that Li, that Charlotte, that Castiel, and that stupid, condescending Nathaniel. She tried her best to do a favor and that was what mattered. Now, she had a whole weekend to herself, to do whatever she pleased; there was that concert but she decided to cancel, it's obvious that Castiel didn't want her there and she needed a break from him as well.

It seemed that luck would never be in Reagan's fortune as Amber and friends sauntered up to her, keen to spoil the end of the day for anyone.

With a flip of her hair, Amber smirked. "Going home, doggie? I hope you don't get lost."

Reagan thought that Amber was a beautiful girl with her brother's beaten gold locks, bright blue-green eyes, and a shapely body, but also how easy it was to forget all that when Amber sneered and spewed out the vitriol in her spirit. Amber was a testament to the very idea of inner beauty by being the case of the exact opposite; her inner ugliness was just as revealing and obvious as Iris's inner beauty was apparent.

Wearily, Reagan said, "Well, I'd hate for you to worry, so don't. I'm a big girl, I can find my way home."

Giving Reagan an onceover, Amber laughed, her friends snickering behind her. "I can't deny that you're big. By the way, you might want to check on the 'love of your life' by the stairway. We left him a small present to remember us by, you know for you tattling on us."

_What the…_, Reagan prodded her mind for the meaning behind Amber's words.

At the sight of Reagan's confusion, Amber said smugly, "Wow, I had no idea your little gremlin was just as forgettable to you as he was to everybody else. Anyway, I'll see you on Monday, tattling little doggie."

The three girls skirted past Reagan as pondered on her mystery admirer. _What weirdo would…wait._ Swallowing a groan, Reagan made a mental note to tell Ken she was not the love of his life, not even close. When she made it to the stairway, Reagan was more than ready to chew out Ken until she actually saw him, slumped against a corner, his head buried in his arms.

Looking up, Ken said shakily, "Hi, Reagan."

At the sight of Ken's face, Reagan clapped her hands together in shock, exclaiming, "Holy crap!"

Shyly, Ken tried to cover his bruised face as much as he could without touching it; his face no longer a lovely peach but a bruised remnant left in the wake of Amber's malevolence. "It's nothing…"

"Ken, I know about Amber. C'mon, I'm taking you to the nurse." said Reagan as she grabbed Ken's arm and started leading him to the nurse's office.

"It's not a big deal, I don't need the nurse." Ken pulled away. "Please, don't tell anyone especially my aunt."

Despite herself, Reagan agreed. "Fine, but what happened exactly? I know Amber had something to do with this, Charlotte and Li too."

"Well, after lunch, all I could think of was how sad you were because of that mean prank. It wasn't fair for you. So, I gathered all my courage throughout the day until I saw Amber and her friends in the stairwell after school ended. I went up to them and asked them to apologize to you but they just laughed at me and pushed me around. They left when I started crying and that was it." Taking off his glasses, Reagan could see Ken's eyes were wet and brimming with shame. He begged her, "Please, Reagan, if you have any respect for what I did, please don't ever tell my dad or my aunt about this. They can't know or my dad will take me away."

She knew it was wrong to brush this incident under a rug but she had to respect Ken's decision. Nodding, Reagan held him, holding him close to her chest. "I do Ken, what you did was very brave. Thank you." Patting his back, Reagan said, "Come on now, let's get you home. I'll help you with that nasty mark. But, first, we'll need to get your stuff."

"Ah, that's right."

As they walked down the hall, Reagan asked Ken, "Hey, what's with this 'love of my life' crap you've been telling everyone?"

"Oh, that…well, it's nothing more than honesty. I'm being honest when I say you're the love of my life."

"That's fine but you do know that we're not… I'm not your girlfriend, Ken, and you're not my boyfriend."

Surprisingly, Ken responded with a quiet determination, "I know but I still love you."

"Ken, but why? Out of any girl, many other interesting girls, why do you choose someone as ordinary as me to love so deeply?"

"Well…" Shyly, Ken blushed and was about to reply when all of sudden the sound of something heavy hit a locker interrupted them.

Whipping her head around, Reagan saw Castiel bearing down on someone, his fists clenched so tightly that the veins on his hands were ready to burst. A small crowd surrounded them and curiosity got the better of Reagan as she raced down to the battle scene.

Fiercely, Castiel practically screamed at his adversary. "Stay the hell out of my business, bitch!"

"I wouldn't have to interfere if you did your part as a responsible student and not cut class."

Even behind several people, Reagan knew that voice, Nathaniel's had a certain uppity tone when he was particularly angry, she knew that from firsthand experience. Of course, it was all about that stupid cut slip. Seeing that nobody was going to interfere, Reagan told Ken to get a teacher and shoved her way through to the two boys, both glowering at each other with the menace of territorial wolves.

"I'll do my part in breaking your face!" Nearly purple in the face, Castiel raised his fist eagerly.

Latching onto his arm, Reagan protested, "Stop! You don't have to do this, Castiel. You're better than this, I swear that you are."

For the briefest moment, Castiel allowed himself to be shocked before he threw her back roughly, her body slamming down onto the floor. "Stay out of this. I've told you before not to interfere and now's the time to take my advice."

Angrily, Nathaniel shouted at Castiel, "Hey, if you're going to hit someone, don't hit the girl that stuck up for you, idiot! Ugh, I don't even care about that stupid slip anymore. I'll get Shermansky to deal with it so good luck with that."

Finally, a teacher could be heard roaring, "Break it up! This ain't the WWE."

As the crowd dispersed quickly, Nathaniel shoved Castiel off of him and helped Reagan up onto her feet.

Shrugging him off, Reagan said bitterly, her bottom still aching from the fall, "Just leave me alone."

Storming off, Reagan took Ken by the arm, dragging him to his locker. Self-righteous fury pulsated through her veins until she felt like she was literally on fire. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and Reagan Lucas had felt more than just scorned.

* * *

_Detective Lance Harding reclined back into his chair, a smoking cigar in hand and feet resting on his shabby desk. It wasn't an easy job to scrub the streets of Niceville clean of scum, the city was infamous for its seediness. Only yesterday, fifteen died in the Gordon-McIntyre turf feud, a welcome relief for the hapless, innocent citizens. However, it would never be enough for Harding, he needed Niceville to be sterile of the filth that roamed within it and cockroaches never die. That's what he told to Sydney Kindling when he sent her away and that was exactly what he meant. Permeating the air, the acrid smoke of his cigar intoxicated Lance, filling him._

_ Then, his sweet reprieve ended with an abrupt knock on his door. _There ain't no rest for the wicked_, Harding thought sardonically, biting down on his cigar—_

When a second knock rapped against her door, Reagan realized that she hadn't imagined it. Curving his back, Clinton stretched and mewled, rubbing his head against her leg. Then, he plopped off her bed and stalked off into the bathroom for his kibble. Closing her book, Reagan called out, "Yeah?"

"It's me," Aunt Aggie said as she entered, holding a plate of freshly cut fruits. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"No, not in the least. Thanks for the fruit," said Reagan, noting the plethora of bandages covering her aunt's slender fingers. Plucking a grape off the plate, Reagan asked, "How's your day?"

"Ah, well, it went the same as usual. Three of them tried climbing over the fence in the playground when naptime was mentioned and another accidentally pulled on my dress, which caused my top to come off partially in what counts as my tenth occasion of a wardrobe malfunction."Crossing her arms, Aunt Agatha shuddered jokingly, "Sometimes, I wonder why I chose childcare."

In a grey cardigan and mustard dress that fell to her ankles, Aunt Agatha looked relatively normal out of her fairy costume, the only exception was the long, silky purple hair that flowed freely from her head. Despite being sisters, Aunt Agatha looked nothing like Reagan's mother, Agatha's features were softer and warmer.

Reagan gave her a reassuring smile. "Even so, you have a way with children. At the end of the day, they take their naps, eat their peas, and learn their ABCs because of you. Although, if you ever want help, feel free to call me up. I'd love to help especially if it'd give you a break."

"Thank you, I'd love that." Then, Aunt Agatha became serious. "Reagan, how is school?"

"Eh, it's school. Not particularly bad but I'm not jumping for joy every morning."

"Actually, what I meant was if anyone was bothering you or hurting you? Ken's injuries concern me and I was wondering if those same girls were bothering you and Lee."

When Aunt Agatha came home, Reagan had been playing around with her tinted moisturizer in a futile effort to cover up Ken's bruises. After a brief explanation, Agatha had agreed to help, albeit with hesitation, and brought out her theatre makeup. While layering on thin layers of the thick foundation, Agatha taught Ken the basics, how to apply and remove the makeup. Miraculously, Ken's face was free of marks and his arms were scuff free. Thanking both of them profusely, Ken returned to his aunt's home, leaving the two women in awkward silence.

Tucking her knees under her arms, Reagan said, "I'm fine, Agatha. I can take care of myself."

"You didn't answer me."

With reluctance, Reagan admitted, "Yeah, they are. But, we've told teachers and even the principal and they won't do anything about it. Can you believe a group of middle-aged adults are afraid of three adolescent girls? I couldn't at first but turns out, anything is possible."

"That's is then, I'll go to Principal Shermansky, I mean Susan, she'll have to take issues like this more seriously if she truly wants to improve this school. But, gosh is it weird calling your former principal by her first name."

The self-sufficient part of Reagan wanted to protest but she knew that her aunt was right. "Thanks, Auntie."

Ruffling Reagan's hair, Agatha smiled, looking even less like her sister. "No problem, I just want you guys to enjoy school while it lasts. It's not all bad lunches, boring teachers, and stressful homework. I've made some of the most rewarding friendships and experienced some of the best memories back in high school."

Disbelieving, Reagan scoffed, "I find it hard to believe that school is that great."

Rising from the bed, Aunt Agatha said, "Well, it doesn't hurt to try." Playing with Reagan's hair, Agatha sighed. "You look so much like your mother when you pout, especially when you tilt your head to your side. It's even in the same direction. That's the look she always gave me when I would tell her my little stories, like she never could believe that I'd skinny dipped in the lake or that I would want to." Chuckling, Agatha smiled wistfully. "Ah, I wouldn't want to bore you with my boring old stories. Dinner's in a half hour, vegetarian pasta courtesy of Chef Lee."

When her aunt left, Reagan went up to the mirror in her bathroom, touching her face inquisitively. She supposed her aunt had a point; when Reagan looked into her reflection, her mother's almond eyes glared back, her mother's peach lips pursed tightly, and her mother's nose scrunched up. And she hated it all, she hated the coldness in her eyes, the indifference on her lips, and the daintiness of her nose. Reagan looked like the ice princess her mother was.

Leaving her bathroom, Reagan just wanted to scream. She didn't know particularly why, but a scream wanted to burst out of her right here and right now. But that wasn't possible, considering the fact that Castiel was staring at her, holding a greasy looking paper bag.

"What the hell!" screamed Reagan, backing right back into the bathroom. Her scream wasn't fulfilling at all but it scared Castiel and that in itself was satisfying. Quickly, Reagan grabbed a towel and threw it at him, making sure that she wasn't imagining him.

Covering his head with his arms, Castiel yelled, "Jesus!"

Composing herself, Reagan asked, "What are you doing here?"

Throwing the towel on her bed, Castiel said, "Listen, you're aunt said I'd be fine if I just came into here. She didn't say you were going to lose your shit."

"I'm losing my 'shit' because people don't freaking enter rooms without knocking unless they're assassins or assholes like you. Why the hell are you here?"

"Obviously, to get sassed by you." Despite muttering this quietly, Castiel was loud enough to be heard by Reagan's sharp ears.

"Oh screw you." Grabbing a stuffed animal, Reagan threw it hard into his face, which did little but amuse him. "Screw you and your sarcastic smirk and that bullshit humor of yours. Get out here. I'm done with you. You win, okay? I'll never sit with you guys at lunch, I'll never hang out at Iris's or Lee's locker if you're there, I'll be out of sight. So, leave me alone!"

With that exclamation, Reagan felt her body become limp, generally tired from it all. Sitting on her bed, Reagan brought her legs to her chest and buried her head between them. She figured if she assumed the fetal position and stayed still the room would stop spinning and he would leave.

Shockingly, Castiel had a tenderness to his voice, something that sounded foreign even to him. "I'm sorry, okay. I was being an asshole because I'm, well, a paranoid asshole. A lot of people give me shit for me just being me and I don't trust people easily. I'm a mean person and I do mean things. It's not easy for me to trust people, especially people like Nathaniel, okay? I mean I'll never forgive him for what he did to me. That's why I didn't sign it. I know it's a stupid reason and I know I was stupid to take it out on you."

Silently, Reagan absorbed his words, suspiciously at first but then suspicion gave way to curiosity.

Placing a paper bag in front of her, Castiel said, "I'm sorry. Accept these tokens of apology. They're powdered cronuts from the diner. You should heat them up if you really want them to be good."

Reagan looked at him and said, "Thanks. I accept your apology, I guess. I'll admit that I wasn't much of a saint either. What the hell are 'cronuts?'"

"They're a croissant donut hybrid and I think it's a given that neither of us were a model citizen."

She nodded agreeably. "Sounds heavenly. I'll admit that being a saint sounds like a drag. I'm pretty sure that being a saint also requires having a stick up your ass and I'd prefer for my body to be stick free."

Smirking, Castiel said, "I don't know, saintly Nathaniel has to be getting something out of having a stick up his ass. Maybe being uptight has its perks."

"Ha, I'll get back to you on that if I ever convert."

Straightening his jacket, Castiel said, "As weirdly amusing as this has been, I have to leave."

"Alright, is it bad to say that this feels pretty weird, especially the not-being-insulted part?"

"Pretty much, I can feel my insides slowly rotting from being nice." Then, he said hesitantly, "Hey, a couple of us are going to a concert tomorrow. Are you coming?"

"I don't know, considering you had an embargo against me."

When Castiel registered her words, he muttered, "Lee, that little squealer."

"Hey, don't blame him for being loyal to family, besides Iris really the one who kicked the cat of the bag."

Pushing back his long, bright red hair, Castiel grinned, "Whatever. Consider the ban lifted."

"Is this your way of offering a truce?"

"I'll admit that the verbal sparring probably won't stop, but, yeah, pretty much." Holding out his hand, Castiel was still smirking but his eyes were gentle and genuine.

She could feel a small smile spreading on her face. "Good, my mouth could use the exercise."

* * *

**Sorry for the delay, writer's block likes to harass me often. I hope no one thinks that I hate Nathaniel, to be honest, he's my favorite even if he is a bit prissy. Also, I made a tumblr for Reagan, a sort of role playing one, but nothing has really happened with it. I thought about posting some of my art and thoughts about her and Lee so if anyone is interested feel free to contact me about that. Thanks for reading and the next chapter will be a bit shorter, a halfie, from the first person perspective of Reagan. Here's hoping that I'll be able to finish soon. :) **


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